Mary-Beth's Story
by grka
Summary: It's a small sequal to "A Day in My Life"


This little story is a complement to the story "A Day in My Life"   
that Anna and I have written together.   
This is by Anna (anna.karin.hulterstrom@odont.umu.se) alone though.  
It's the story of a little girl and her friendship with Andrew.  
  
Our beta reader Leigh has a usual done an excellent job trying to get   
my English up to standards.  
  
Disclaimer: Andrew does not belong to anyone else but Martha Williamson.  
  
Mary-Beth's Story  
  
My name is Mary-Beth and this is my story.  
  
I was born on Christmas Day, I know that, but I don't know who my   
real parents were. My parents, or one of them, left me to be found in   
a church when I was newly born. My good friend Andrew found me and   
thanks to him, I ended up in the best family possible.  
  
I say 'my friend Andrew', but in the beginning he was more like the   
kind uncle. He used to come and visit me every Christmas, and of   
course he always had a present for me; a teddy bear or a doll and,   
when I was three, a beautiful silver necklace with a little silver   
angel.  
  
I'm not quite sure when I knew that he is an angel, but I think it   
started the winter that I turned five. My adoptive brother, Jeff, was   
into ice hockey and I didn't want to miss a single one of his games.   
This day, however, I was coming down with a cold. I could feel my   
temperature going up, but I faked feeling fine just so that I could   
see the game. I ended up with double-sided pneumonia and my parents   
had to take me to the hospital. I was too young to know just how ill   
I really was, but I was delighted when Andrew turned up. I remember   
being surprised when the others couldn't see him, but I thought it   
was a game. I will never forget Andrew then. He was dressed in a   
white suit and he always sat with a light behind him (or so I   
thought).  
  
I think I must have become certain of who Andrew was the following   
year. One side effect of the pneumonia had been that I became   
susceptible to all kinds of infections. One of those numerous bouts   
of illness brought on a feeling of being out of breath and of being   
very tired. The doctor thought I had best come in to the hospital so   
that they could figure out what was wrong. They had run me through a   
lot of tests that day and I was tired. In spite of that, I still woke   
up in the middle of the night feeling panicky. I could not get enough   
air. My mother, who was with me at the hospital, was sleeping. Then   
Andrew came. He was wearing something white, just like last time, but   
this time I could see that he was not standing with the light behind   
him, the light came from him. All my life I had loved and trusted   
him, and now that I realized what he was, I found that the panic was   
dissolving. He showed me the button to press to get help, and then he   
stayed with me until the nurse and doctor had had been able to help   
me.  
  
This nightly episode helped the doctor to understand what was wrong   
with me. He said that the infection I had had attacked my heart and   
that all I now needed was a lot of antibiotics.  
  
A couple of days after I had been sent home again, Andrew came to   
visit. He had come by for an hour or two before, but it was always   
special when he turned up. We were left alone long enough for me to   
ask him if he is an angel, and of course he confirmed that he is one.   
Andrew was my very best friend, but I couldn't help feeling very   
blessed to have an angel as an uncle. As soon as I was fit enough, I   
went to the church to thank God properly for letting me have one of   
His angels as my uncle and friend.  
  
So now I knew that Andrew is an angel, but I did not yet know what   
kind of angel he is. I probably didn't think about it either. I seem   
to recall that I kind of assumed that he was my guardian angel. I   
mean, what else could he be?  
  
I learned just what kind of angel Andrew is the spring when I was   
seven. My mom had gone back to work again now that I had started   
school, but Granny was always home when I returned from school. On   
this particular day she didn't answer me as usual as I came through   
the door. Intrigued I went to look for her. I found her lying on the   
floor in the kitchen. To my relief I found Andrew there with her. She   
seemed to be in pain, so I asked if I could get her an aspirin or   
something. She laughed a little when I said that, and then she asked   
me to sit down beside her. She said that I could run for help when it   
was over, but right now she just wanted to have me by her side. She   
turned her gaze to Andrew, as if she asked him to continue because it   
was he who spoke next. He told me that his main job was to escort   
people home to God, that this was nothing to be afraid of, that my   
granny was having a heart attack at the moment and that this was a   
very good time to go and phone 911. Andrew was gone when I returned   
from the phone.  
  
Andrew turned up the following day, just as he had the year before.   
It felt strange sitting there talking to Death. I said so, and he   
looked slightly hurt. So I asked him if I had hurt his feelings. He   
told me that he was not 'Death'. He was an angel who was there to   
help people through the inevitable, but that he never, ever caused   
death. He also told me that he felt hurt when he saw how people liked   
to picture death - the more gruesome the better. He reminded me of   
all the happy, good times we had had together. I guess that I had   
known Andrew for so long that I really didn't need much convincing. I   
knew in my heart that Andrew was my friend - and would always be. I   
guess I was glad that he had been there for Granny.  
  
I had always believed in God, and these events confirmed my beliefs   
and taught me a whole lot more about God that I had not known before.   
Contributing to this were the things that Andrew told me, when I   
asked him. I felt so blessed and so safe. I did not care that my   
heart had been damaged by the bacterial infection and that it   
probably would need surgery in the future. I knew that God was taking   
good care of me.  
  
All in all, I felt like I was the happiest, luckiest little girl in   
the whole world. God had given me to a wonderful family who really   
loved me; He had also given me an angel as a best friend - and   
sometime uncle, who could ask for more.  
  
The spring when I was ten was special. The whole class was full of   
anticipation - we were going on a three-day field trip. We saved   
money and we organized flea markets, all to raise the amount of money   
needed to take us on that trip. Then the day arrived. We gathered in   
the schoolyard with our packed bags, and sleeping bags. Then the bus   
arrived and we all climbed in. As luck would have it, I ended up   
sitting alone near the front of the bus as my best friend, Susan, was   
ill.  
  
The trip was going very well until the bus started the climb up the   
mountain towards the pass. It was halfway there that Andrew turned   
up. He just sat there in the seat beside me as if he had been sitting   
there all the time. The only problem was that he was wearing what I   
had begun to call his 'uniform'. I could feel my heart in my mouth   
and there was a sinking feeling in my stomach. I turned my head and   
gazed in his eyes in a silent question. He answered it by saying   
"Yes, Mary-Beth." His eyes looked so sad when he said that it made me   
I forget my own fear and I wanted to comfort him.  
  
Sitting up front gave me the advantage of being able to lean forward   
and tell the driver that I was scared and would he please drive a   
little bit more slowly. The other kids called me a sissy, but I saw   
that Andrew looked relieved. Nevertheless, it happened. All of a   
sudden the driver lost his control of the bus and we went over the   
edge and down into the ravine. Everybody around me was screaming and   
I guess that I was screaming, too. It is only if I look back at the   
accident that I notice all the lurching and banging into things. When   
it happened, everything occurred so fast that there was no time to   
notice.  
  
Curiously enough, I was not afraid. Andrew was sitting beside me and   
I knew that some of my friends and or me might get killed. Everything   
went black. Then I heard Andrew's voice calling my name. I thought he   
was looking for me so I tried to sit up and call back, but then I   
felt his hand on my brow. I opened my eyes and there he was. A swarm   
of butterflies lifted in my stomach as I realized it was my TIME.   
Andrew nodded and smiled more gently than I had ever seen, then he   
took my hand and raised me to my feet. Now I could see the whole   
accident scene. I saw my classmates sobbing, stumbling their way up   
the walls of the ravine. I saw the driver slumped over the steering   
wheel. I turned a questioning gaze to Andrew. He nodded, 'Yes'. My   
asking the driver to slow down had saved the others; only the driver   
and I had died. I asked him if he would help my family through this   
and he promised me he that would.  
  
Then with a joy I had never before felt, I walked with Andrew into   
the light, home to the Father.  
  
Andrew asked me the other day if I would write down my short story.   
He thought it would be a complement to the diary he himself had   
written over two 'ordinary' days, as if any of Andrew's days are   
ordinary. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed   
living it.  
  
God Bless  
Mary-Beth 


End file.
